Immersion
by Suilven
Summary: It's bath time and Alistair finds himself in over his head. Light and fluffy goodness.


**Immersion**

Alistair was exhausted. They had encountered so many roving bands of darkspawn today that he had lost count. Everything was covered with the stench of dried blood; his armor, his weapon, his skin and hair. Looking at their bedraggled group, it was obvious that they all felt the same way. Even Leliana was less cheerful than normal, walking beside Elissa in weary silence. Morrigan was flying ahead, a black speck in the fading sky, scouting for a place to camp for the night. They trudged on.

At last, the raven swooped down ahead of them and shimmered back into her human form. Morrigan looked tired and bloody. They all eyed her hopefully.

"I have found a spot that appears suitable. There is a copse of trees only half a mile or so away that looks fairly sheltered and," she paused with the faintest hint of a smile. "There is a small river next to it that should be shallow enough to bathe in."

"Oh, thank the Maker!" Leliana exclaimed, clasping her hands together and exchanging a grin with Elissa. After the few months that they had spent so far with Sten in their motley group, Alistair could tell that he was happy too, even though his facial expression didn't change in the slightest.

"A bath sounds divine, no? Perhaps you will allow me the privilege of making sure you are clean, _bella_?" Zevran smirked flirtatiously at Elissa to Alistair's annoyance. She rolled her eyes at his advances.

"Sure thing, Zev. Nice try."

"A man cannot achieve anything if he does not even make the attempt. I will try again. It does not hurt to be persistent."

"If you all are finished?" Morrigan voice cut through the banter. "I, for one, would prefer to bathe while there is still some degree of light remaining. Shall we?"

The group moved forward again, significantly lighter and more eager than before. When they reached the trees that Morrigan had indicated, they all quickly fell into their typical duties in setting up their camp for the night. Tents were set up and an area for their fire pit cleared. There were few fallen branches that they could use for firewood, so Alistair was forced to chop down one of the smaller trees, earning a frown of disapproval from Morrigan. The wood was young and green, causing it to smoke horribly, but it was better than nothing. And, Alistair thought, the smoke did keep the biting flies away, which was also an improvement.

"We're done, so we're heading down to the river first," Elissa called. She had already removed her armor for cleaning later and had a towel draped over her arm.

"Why is it that the girls always get to bathe first? It is so unfair," Zevran remarked, pulling some dried meat from his pack and chewing on it thoughtfully.

"Well, it's only proper that we allow them to go first. It's just polite, "Alistair answered. "Although, today I think we should have gone in the order of who has the most darkspawn chunks in their hair."

"I think you would have gone first then, my friend. You are positively filthy."

Alistair sat down beside Zevran and pulled some rations from his own pack. Normally, they would hunt and collect anything edible they could find, but tonight they were all just too tired to even contemplate the extra effort. Sten sat down to eat as well, although he maintained his constant state of stoic silence. Alistair still thought he was creepy, but he hadn't killed them yet so that had to count for something. Zevran, of course, _had_ tried to kill them, but he had so far seemingly passed up several ample opportunities to do it _again_, which he supposed also counted for something.

"Listen, do you hear that?" Zevran asked.

Sten ignored him while Alistair stopped to listen more carefully. "What?"

"Giggling," Zevran sighed. "I wonder what they are doing down there. Do you think they are washing each other?" He raised an eyebrow at Alistair.

He could hear them now too, laughing and splashing. He felt his face turning red as he couldn't help but visualize what Zevran had suggested.

"A blond, a brunette, and a redhead… It's like all my fantasies coming true. Perhaps I should go down and check on them, you know, just to make sure that everything is safe."

"Yeah, until they all simultaneously kill you," Alistair scoffed, wishing he could just stop blushing already.

"Ah, but I would die a happy man," Zevran smiled.

The sounds of splashing grew quiet and soon Leliana appeared through the trees.

"We are done, if you want to take your turn," she told them, rubbing a towel over her still damp hair. Alistair gulped down the rest of his food and started digging through his pack for his soap and towel. He found the soap, but where had his towel gotten to?

Elissa plopped down beside him, avoiding the growing pile of clothing and supplies at his feet. "Looking for something?" she asked. Her hair was still wet as well and her clothes slightly damp. Everything clung to her form a little more tightly than normal and it was exceeding pleasant to look at it. He forced his gaze back down towards his pack.

"Just my towel," Alistair grumped.

"Maybe you should try actually _packing_ your bag rather than just tossing it all in there at the last minute before we break camp. Just a suggestion." She bit into an apple, grinning at him.

He made a face at her before returning to his task.

"As much as we would like to wait for you, my dear Alistair, we are going on ahead. My desire to be clean is currently outweighing my desire to see you naked." Zevran winked at him as Alistair's head shot up.

He blushed again. Dammit! "Yes, well, then, maybe it's a good thing that I can't find my towel," he grumbled.

"Another time then, perhaps," Zevran mocked as he and Sten strolled past the trees and out of sight.

"I'd offer you mine, but it's soaked," Elissa said.

"Thanks, but I know it has to be here somewhere." He rummaged through his pile again. Giving up, he began methodically folding and putting away each item into his now empty pack.

"Aha! Success!" Alistair cried out, pulling his towel out from the inside of a wrinkled pair of trousers. He shoved the remainder of his belongings back into his pack as fast as possible. After reverently setting his towel and soap down, he began the arduous process of getting out of his armor. Elissa helped him with the buckles that he was unable to reach but it still took an annoyingly long time to remove it all.

"Finally," he sighed, pushing the pieces into a pile. He was not looking forward to the amount of cleaning that it was all going to need. Still, bath time! "I'm going down to the river. I may not come back. I might just sleep in the water so I can enjoy the sensation of being clean for more than an hour at a time."

"Have fun," Elissa said with a smile. "You really are incredibly covered in gore today."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," he replied, flipping his towel up over his shoulder and grabbing his soap.

He met Zevran and Sten on the path already heading back to camp.

"So, did you find your towel or was that just an elaborate ploy to avoid my advances? I promise you, if you give in to temptation, you will not be disappointed. I am incredibly skilled in the arts of pleasure, you know."

"Uh, I think I'm going to pass. Thanks anyway."

"Your loss, my friend," Zevran winked as he passed him. Alistair groaned inwardly and wished the infernal assassin would just drop it already. Still, he practically ran towards the water. It was getting fairly dark now… Maybe he should have grabbed one of the lanterns… Too late now. The pull of being clean was just too strong.

He reached the river bank and quickly shucked off his clothes before grabbing his soap and wading into the water. Looking back, he couldn't see the light of the fire past the trees. The large nearly full moon was covered in clouds but he figured that he should be able to make it back to the camp without killing himself in the undergrowth or getting hopelessly lost as long as he didn't linger too long. The water on his legs was cool, but not freezing, and it was bliss. Morrigan had been correct, the current here was unbelievably slow and he was past the river's mid-point before the water reached his chest. He sighed happily before lathering his soap and finally rinsing the blood and grime from his skin. He scrubbed, humming softly, starting to feel human again. His body finished, he turned his attention to his hair, ducking down to immerse his entire head before covering his hair with suds. He used his fingers to massage the soap into his scalp before dunking down into the water once more. He surfaced, rubbing the water from his eyes before opening them. Oh! He froze in place.

In the dim light, Alistair could see a form moving on the riverbank. Was it one of their group? A scout? A bandit? He knew it wasn't darkspawn at least… He held perfectly still, tensed and waiting. He was obviously unarmed, but he knew he could throw a mean punch if necessary. The person was doing something at the edge of the water but it was hard to see with so little light. Should've brought a lantern, he thought glumly. He heard the faintest splashing as whoever it was entered the water. Andraste's flaming sword! Now what should he do? He crouched down a little, leaving just his head above the water, watching.

The figure was striding slowly out into the river towards him, roughly twenty or thirty feet further downstream from where he was. Suddenly, the clouds overhead shifted slightly and the large pale moon was exposed, bathing the water in faint light. "Maker have mercy," he muttered. It was Morrigan. She was naked. Very naked. Unbelievably naked. He was sure his heart was going to stop.

Despite being a complete and utter bitch, he thought, there was no denying that she was, well, gorgeous. Even more so right now as she was gliding closer, although far enough away that he hoped she just wouldn't notice him. Her black hair was still bound up in its customary knot at her neck and her face and arms were splattered with bits of blood and smudged with dirt. His eyes trailed down her slender white neck to the globes of her breasts. Her areolas were dark and sensuous with nipples erect from the chill. He swallowed roughly feeling himself stirring below the water. This was bad, very bad, but he couldn't tear his gaze away. Alistair had never seen a naked woman before – well, pictures, of course, but they were nothing like _this_. He could see just the hint of dark curls between her legs, nearly submerged in the river now. Morrigan's eyes were closed. She was clearly savoring the cool sweetness of the water the way he had.

She stopped once she was waist-deep, her hands reaching to remove the pins from her hair. Her breasts bobbed with the movement and Alistair felt his arousal throb in response. She was so beautiful – and naked! – his brain helpfully supplied. Unable to help himself, his hand dropped down and he touched himself slowly, silently stifling the low rumble that threatened to emerge from his throat. Her hair fell in waves over her shoulders; so much more attractive than the way she normally wore it. Morrigan began to lather her soap between her hands and Alistair realized absently that he had dropped his somewhere in the water. Not that he cared at this point. She massaged the soap through her hair carefully combing through it with her fingers as she went. Leaving her hair still covered in suds, she moved down to her arms and then her chest. As she methodically circled each breast with her hands, he stroked down his length in rhythm with her movements. He felt vaguely guilty, but was powerless to stop himself, the temptation too great. When she had finished, she waded in slightly deeper before diving beneath the water. Alistair watched anxiously for her to emerge, but a moment passed, and then another, with no sign of her. Should he go check to make sure she was alright?

"Such a naughty, naughty templar," the sultry voice whispered right behind him. She was close enough that he could feel her breath on his ear and it took all of his control to not leap into the air in surprise. He felt as if his entire body had turned to ice.

"I, um, this isn't, uh, what it looks like," he managed, well aware of where his hand had just been moments before.

"Hmmm, I think that this is very much what it looks like actually," she purred. Alistair debated about turning to face her, but decided against it. One of her hands ghosted lightly across his shoulders and he stood up in surprise, his chest rising out of the water. Oh, Maker, I'm going to die, he thought mournfully.

"So," she continued as her hand continued its explorations down his back. "What sort of punishment would be fair, do you think, for spying on me unawares?" His mouth was dry and he wasn't sure if he would even be able to speak.

"I swear, I wasn't trying to – I thought you had gone down with Elissa and Leliana – I was only –"He stopped abruptly as her fingers trailed down past his spine and over his backside, gripping him firmly. His erection sprung back to life in an instant, blood rushing to his groin. Her hands moved to his hips, holding him in place, and she suddenly pressed her body against his back. He was trapped and he _was_ going to die. The heat of her, even in the coolness of the water, took his breath away. Alistair could feel her breasts against him, each breath she took causing them to rub deliciously against his skin. He let out a shuddering breath.

"Yes, but you did not call out when you saw me enter the water, did you?" Morrigan murmured, nipping the side of his neck before flicking her pink tongue over it. She could feel his heart pounding. "No, you decided to do something much more… interesting." One of her hands left his hip and curled around his shaft. A groan escaped him. This was wrong. He should be trying to get away. So why did he want nothing more than for her to slide her hand along him, grip him harder…

"I, I think we should – we should – oh, Morrigan –"His words trailed off into a gasp as she did exactly that.

He could feel her smirk even though he couldn't see her face. She stroked him slowly, feeling him relax against her. She pulled her hand away gently, enjoying his reluctance at its removal, before moving herself around to face him. His eyes were dark in the moonlight, his lips slightly parted, his breathing ragged.

"Come, templar," she said, tugging his hands until he began to walk forward as she led him out of the water. He followed meekly although he began to protest again once they reached the shoreline.

"Morrigan, I shouldn't be doing this, we shouldn't be doing this," he fumbled, her hand still pulling him gently along. "I want to wait to do this with someone special, for love, not just for, um, you know. Besides, you hate me. I'm a… what was it you called me this afternoon… an "obstinate buffoon", remember?" Alistair babbled on while she coolly ignored him, guiding him down to sit in the short grass.

She sat down in his lap, straddling him, her legs wrapping around his back. He stopped talking. She pressed her mouth to his, raking his lower lip with her teeth. His breath caught in his throat as she teased him gently with her tongue before sweeping it abruptly into his mouth. He couldn't help responding, kissing her back with a rumble of pleasure. She broke off the kiss, leaving him panting.

"Are you so sure that this is something that you do not want? Your body suggests otherwise." She smiled, a hungry wild cat eyeing its meal. "Besides, I can teach you how to pleasure a woman properly. When you and Elissa finally get around to something more than making puppy-dog eyes at one another, do you not want to be able to please her? Trust me when I say that there is nothing worse than two virgins in bed together."

Alistair swallowed tightly. He was having a hard time ignoring the pull in his blood that wanted nothing more than to plunge himself deep within her. He didn't want to hurt Elissa, but they were still only friends, comrades, at least for now. For all he knew, he thought a bit sadly, she didn't even think of him in _that_ way. And, if she did have feelings for him some day, he would like to at least not be utterly terrible at it. Or, was he just trying to rationalize how much he just wanted to act on what he was feeling right now? Oh, sod it all…

"Will you teach me?" he whispered. The feel of her heat in his lap was too much to bear.

"Oh, yes, templar. I will show you everything you need to know," she murmured before capturing his mouth again fiercely. He kissed her back with equal passion, his resistance crumbling like sand. She threw her head back and Alistair moved his mouth to her throat, kissing and sucking.

"Do not be afraid to use your teeth, your tongue," she commanded breathlessly as he complied, scraping his teeth over her soft skin. She pushed him away slightly and then demonstrated on his neck, biting him lightly before soothing the skin with sweeps of her tongue. She ran her hands over his lean, muscular chest and he shivered. He felt so unbearably warm and flushed, drunk with the newfound sensations of her body pressing against his.

Feeling fearless, he moved his hands to caress her breasts. They were so incredibly soft! He massaged them reverently, tugging each nipple between his fingers. He wanted to bring his mouth down, to taste them… Morrigan seemed to read his mind, arching herself back to give him more access to her chest while pulling his head down towards her. He drew one of her nipples into his mouth, pinching it with his teeth before suckling gently. She moaned softly, her fingers tangled in his damp hair. Desire coursed through him, her pleasure feeding his. He continued his ministrations, wanting to please her, and was rewarded by the way she pushed herself against his mouth.

When he slowed, unsure of what to do next, she took control once more, untangling her legs from him and guiding him down on to his back. The ground beneath them was cold, but it scarcely registered.

"Next lesson," she whispered huskily. "Control." She lowered her head, the ends of her hair tickling his thighs, and took the tip of him into her mouth. Okay, now he really was going to die, he thought, utterly overwhelmed by the sensation. His hips jerked up and she chuckled. The warmth, the heat, the wetness – it was more than he had ever imagined. His hands clenched into fists and he struggled to breathe. "Relax. Perhaps you can try making use of that templar discipline for something useful for a change." With that, she took him more fully into her mouth, her tongue swirling around his shaft as her hands grasped him firmly.

"Oh, Maker," Alistair panted. She had hardly begun and he already felt like he was hanging on by a thread, standing at the edge of the abyss ready to fall. Discipline. Focus. He struggled to clear his head as he had been taught but the dance of her tongue and her hands stroking along the plane of his stomach were insistent.

"Morrigan – I can't –"he managed to choke out and she stopped with a sly smile.

"Very well." She paused for a moment while he pulled himself back from the edge and then lay down next to him as he rolled over to face her. "Let me show you how to please me." She took his hand and guided it down between her legs. She was slick with moisture as she showed him where and how to touch. His fingers, clumsy at first, grew bolder as he found a rhythm in the motion. With his thumb, he drew circles over the sensitive nub before cautiously inserting a finger inside her. She was so warm and he couldn't help imagining what it was going to feel like to push himself into that tight hotness. Alistair watched her face as his fingers moved, her lips parting with murmured sounds of pleasure, her yellow eyes soft with desire. It was exhilarating, knowing that he was doing this to her, making her feel this way. He wanted more.

Moving his hand away to cup one of her breasts lightly, he could feel her pulse racing. He bent down to kiss her stomach, biting gently before brushing a trail of kisses lower and lower until he reached the dark triangle of curls. The scent was intoxicating, so feminine, before he touched his tongue to that same sweet spot that she had placed his thumb against. She bucked against him and it was all the encouragement he needed. Holding her hips down, he explored her with his mouth, loving the feel of her writhing beneath him. He licked and teased relentlessly, her breath coming in shallow gasps now.

"Alistair," she moaned.

He lifted his head. "Do want me to stop?" It was his turn to smirk now.

"No," she breathed and his head descended once more. Her hands moved to hold his head in place as she ground herself against his mouth. He suckled the tiny nub of nerves, sliding his fingers in and out, stroking the inner walls of her sex, until he felt her clench around him as she cried out hoarsely.

"Was that okay?" he asked her.

"'Twas more than satisfactory," Morrigan replied, taking a moment to catch her breath. "I must confess, you surprise me, templar. I had not expected you to be so… at ease with me."

She sat up and pushed him down onto his back once more before stroking his length. A low rumble filled his chest. He was so hard and ready and the thought of thrusting inside her filled him with a desperate want. She straddled his hips and he could feel with warm heat of her as she slowly glided across his arousal.

"Morrigan, I need –"

"I know. Patience," she counseled, leaning forward over him. His mouth snatched hungry kisses at her breasts before she claimed him with a searing kiss. He moaned into her mouth as she rubbed herself along his shaft. She released him slowly, pulling his lower lip gently in her teeth. She sat back before moving over top of him, the anticipation was exquisite, before plunging him inside her in one fluid motion. Alistair couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move, his body given over to its primal self. Bracing her hands on his chest, she began to rock, and he gripped her hips instinctively as he thrust into her. This was the most fantastic thing he had ever experienced in his life. He finally understood why everyone seemed to want to do this _all the time_. Coherent thought became impossible. Morrigan moved a hand down between her legs, rubbing in time with their motion. He moved her hand away impatiently, jealously replacing it with his own, finding that sensitive spot that made her quiver as he circled it over and over again with his thumb. He wasn't going to last long, her whimpers of pleasure driving him over the edge into madness. When she tightened around him, crying his name into the still darkness, he lost it, spilling into her with a triumphant groan.

They lay still for a long moment, collecting the pieces of themselves that had scattered to the wind. She still lay on top of him and his arms encircled her back, holding her there. He could feel her heart beating next to his and it was strangely comforting. He kissed the top of her head gently, his hands stroking her back tenderly.

"So, what happens now?" he asked, not sure of what he even wanted her answer to be.

"It depends. Do you think you require more instruction? You are an obstinate buffoon after all."

Alistair pretended to think. "Well, the Revered Mother was always fond of telling me what a slow learner I was." He felt her smile.

"Hmmm, perhaps I shall have to develop a full lesson plan since you clearly require a great deal of remedial work. You are woefully behind thanks to your years in the Chantry."

"Indeed," he murmured.

Reluctantly, they untangled themselves from each other and rinsed off in the river before finding their respective pieces of clothing and getting dressed. Alistair found his towel, although both of them had _somehow_ managed to lose their soap.

"You do realize that everyone is going to be wondering where we are," Alistair remarked with a flush of embarrassment.

"Probably," Morrigan shrugged before summoning a wisp of green light.

They walked back towards the camp, and Alistair felt so light, so free. He struggled to take the goofy grin from his face as they came into the clearing. Leliana rushed up.

"Alistair! We were all getting worried! We were about to send a search party to go find you."

He hung his head shyly, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing profusely. Morrigan spoke up, rescuing him.

"I found this fool, lost, and headed the wrong way. Clearly, a sense of direction is not a prerequisite for becoming a Grey Warden. Nor is any modicum of intelligence, I might add." She sounded just as she always did, derisive and cruel, but the slight grin in her eyes gave her away.

"Witch," he glowered at her, keeping up the pretense.

"Templar," she snuffed, stalking off towards her shelter.

Zevran watched the exchange, his eyes widening. No, he couldn't have… With her? He shook his head slightly. There was no way.

Alistair turned to him with a grin. "So, is there any more food?" His hair was full of twigs, Zevran noted, and there was a faint purple bruise at the base of his neck that had definitely not been there before. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"So, my friend," he said softly so that only Alistair could hear him. "Apparently it was just _my_ advances that you were so determined to resist, no?"

Zevran chuckled, walking away, as Alistair turned the most spectacular shade of red.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: This was so much fun to write. :) Thanks for reading and for all your kind reviews!<em>


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